Heartbreaker Read online

  A play of emotions washed over her gamine face. Relief. A flash of respect. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

  He didn’t tell her how sick and furious he’d felt as he drove back to the office. When that damn dog had lunged at Astro he’d been angrier than he’d been in years. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise: he’d had his suspicions about Elijah from the beginning. The way he handled his dog had only confirmed his fears. Elijah cared about nothing other than himself, his image, and his bank account.

  He was the sort of person Mason and his partners refused to deal with. The sort of person to whom he never should have exposed Tess. Or Astro. The sort of person he should have walked away from long before today.

  The confirmation of Elijah’s lack of judgment had come when his dog sliced through Mason’s cuff. But the confirmation of Mason’s business instincts had come when Elijah admitted, as they’d stood and talked on the field while Elijah’s dog surveyed Astro like a tiny hors d’oeurve, that he’d already signed a memorandum of understanding with a rival firm. The way he described it, “the ink wasn’t dry” and the deal wasn’t really enforceable. He’d suggested he could walk away from the commitment if Mason offered enough money.

  “Go ahead and make an offer,” he’d said with a sly smile. “Maybe you can steal us back.”

  Mason had no idea if the kid was legally bound or not, but Elijah’s lack of ethics turned his stomach. Elijah would follow the money and make whatever deal he thought served him best, regardless of whether he’d made a promise to someone else. His assumption that Mason would try to interfere with an existing contract was beyond insulting. Whether or not it was illegal, it was definitely dirty, and Mason and his firm didn’t play dirty games.

  “How did your partners take it?” Tess asked. “Weren’t they the ones who were really into it before?”

  Mason leaned against the counter next to her. The receding anger and adrenaline had left him edgy and restless, and for some reason, the entire way back home all he could think about was Tess.

  The way she’d jumped on that damn dog and wrestled it back from him like some kind of avenging angel.

  The way her eyes flashed when she was angry.

  The way her hands trembled when he got too close to her.

  “They were, but I could have fought harder,” he said, forcing himself to respond to her words. “I should have.” In truth, that was the hardest to take. That was why he’d driven back home still feeling sick to his stomach, why he struggled, even now, to let go of what had happened. Because he knew he’d failed. He hadn’t trusted his own instincts, and she could have paid the price.

  Damn it, he’d let himself be ramrodded by Nate in that meeting. He could have—should have—fought then to drop the company. He’d known the deal was bad, but he hadn’t trusted himself enough to fight for it.

  And now he felt like shit. There had been a time when he’d been more than just a rainmaker. Anyone could find a deal, but he could also assess them, figure out who was a good prospect, who would work hard and be reliable, and who could turn a good idea into a great business. That skill was even more important than getting new clients through the door. But somehow, he’d managed to silence that essential part of himself.

  How many other times had he ignored his gut, and what did that mean for the person he’d become?

  She touched his arm. “You couldn’t have known.”

  The contact was electric. He was painfully aware of every inch of her skin, the smell of her hair, like roses and sunshine. The way her breasts rose and fell with each breath. The way she was the only one lately who seemed to see exactly how hard he was struggling.

  Energy raced through him. Her touch was lightning, leaving everything behind it hot and needy, yet somehow healed.

  He caught her hand. He’d told himself to back away from her. He knew she was right and it would be stupid for them to get involved. Especially when he found himself liking her so damn much.

  And yet.

  Her breath caught. Her eyes widened, startled. She looked down at their joined hands, then back to his face. But she didn’t pull away.

  “Mason?”

  “I’m sorry.” Was he talking to her, or himself? He tugged gently on her hand, the motion clearly coming from somewhere other than his rational brain. After the barest of pauses, she rose to her feet, her eyes locked on his. “I should have had us leave as soon as you recognized those dogs.”

  The air got hotter, practically sparking with a burst of electric tension. A faint hum sounded behind his ears. He stared at her lips. They were close. So close.

  She swallowed hard, and he could see the movement, could watch with fascination as her chest rose and fell. He was painfully aware that they were just a foot or two away from being meshed together. With just a small movement of their bodies, she could slide between his legs and he could feel her against him.

  The tip of her tongue nervously darted out, touched her full upper lip. “It’s okay,” she said, voice husky.

  “No, it’s not.” He reached out to catch one of the long, silky strands of hair that was perpetually falling out of her loose ponytail. Without thinking he tucked it behind her ear, and the feeling of her achingly soft skin was like a shock that ricocheted through him.

  She didn’t speak, but as she exhaled, her body relaxed against his hand. Her chest rose and fell more rapidly with each breath. The anticipation was achingly sweet.

  He leaned toward her, just an inch, and her body went utterly still. But she didn’t pull away.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “I need to kiss you,” he said, mesmerized by the warm rose of her mouth. Something had changed between them, and it wasn’t just what had happened at the dog park. Some need for her had been released, thrumming a rough beat through his body, and he couldn’t imagine how to silence it now. He cupped her jaw in his hand, paused and watched.

  Waited.

  He let his hand trail from the line of her cheek to her neck. He touched the back of her head, let his fingers play over the silky hair at the nape. Gently removed her glasses and set them on the counter. “I’ve been wanting to do this forever.”

  He waited for her objection. The only thing that could save them now would be her resolve. But she didn’t move away. Didn’t object.

  “Yes,” she finally breathed.

  Her eyes slid closed, and he fell into her with helpless abandon.

  God it was sweet. Her lips were everything he had imagined. Soft and full, promising heat and passion, cinnamon and sugar.

  She was desire and anticipation, and she fit into him like the other half of a puzzle. He touched her tongue with his, felt her body jolt in response. He slid his hand to the back of her neck and drew her closer. She was tentative at first, slowly growing bolder as their kiss grew deeper. The need heightened as they meshed, hot kisses an aching prelude to so much more. Her soft skin beckoned, and he left a trail of kisses from behind her ear down to the hollow at the base of her throat while his other hand drifted to her back.

  Heat poured off them.

  He pushed aside the neckline of her shirt, found the delicate line of her collarbone, and slid his mouth along it. A tiny moan escaped her.

  His thumb slid over her stomach, and the moan came again. He dove deeper into her mouth, and the need between them escalated, the hum in his ears rising to a higher pitch.

  “Jesus, Tess,” he murmured, his own breathing sounding labored. “You taste so good. So damn good.”

  Her arms joined around the back of his neck, and her breasts pressed against his chest. His hands circled her waist, and without thinking, he lifted her onto the counter. Her legs fell open, and his hunger sharpened as he moved between them.

  So. Damn. Close.

  He pushed up the thin cotton of her shirt and the soft lace of her bra was like a revelation. He cupped the weight of one breast, then the other, running his thumbs along her nipples. Her hips jerked, and her le
gs closed around him.

  He was lost.

  …

  She was on fire. Her world had been reduced to the feeling of his lips, his hands, and the length of his body, pressed between her legs. A throbbing, aching need enveloped her. Every inch of her sang at the touch of his lips and his mouth, the pads of his fingers moving across her skin. Dimly, she felt his hands close around her waist, and then, like she was nothing more than a breeze, he had lifted her to the counter.

  Yes.

  She wanted this. No, she needed this. It had been years since she’d felt this drive and hunger, and her body opened to it with no more thought than a flower opening to the sun. The sweet pressure of him between her legs was so good she almost sobbed in pleasure. When his hands slipped under her shirt she bucked and moaned.

  That was when she felt something else on her back. A small, wet nose.

  Astro.

  She sat up abruptly, the sexual haze ripped aside. Her gaze darted from Mason, to Astro, to her own legs, locked around Mason’s hips.

  Sweet Jesus what had she done? When did this happen?

  Please tell me this isn’t real. Please tell me I didn’t practically mount him on the kitchen counter.

  She pushed him back with the heel of her hand. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, and as they did, she shoved on her glasses and grabbed Astro to her like a shield.

  “That shouldn’t have happened.” She squirmed out of his embrace and jumped to her feet, her body still flooded with the throbbing, burning memory of the feeling of his lips on hers, of the way she had strained against him and ached for more. Every cell in her body yearned to go back to him, to tumble straight into his arms and give up any inhibitions she might have had left.

  You weren’t going to do this. You know better. Damn it, what happened to you!

  “It didn’t feel like that.” Mason’s voice was relaxed, but his golden gaze was anything but. Fiery desire still sparked between them, as palpable as the beating of her heart, the sound of his breath, and the ache that lingered, low and intent, between her thighs. “Explain to me again why this is such a bad idea?”

  “You’re my boss. We’ve got a business relationship. Do you normally sleep with your employees?”

  He slouched against the counter, his gaze hard and intent on her face. “Not usually. But then again, I’ve never had a dog sitter before. So I don’t really have a basis for comparison.”

  “Don’t you dare make fun of me,” she warned, a dose of anger sparking just enough to clear away the last of the sexual cobwebs. “Just because I’m not a high-powered corporate person doesn’t mean my job isn’t important.”

  He set his jaw. “Of course it doesn’t, and I’ve got ten times as much respect for the work you do than most of the corporate types I meet. But you have to know this thing between us hasn’t got anything to do with you working for me.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” she blurted out, trying to ignore the way his compliment sent a fresh wave of heat through her. “No way.”

  “I’ve never seen someone overthink things so much.”

  “And I’ve never seen someone so determined to let his libido do all the talking! You don’t have to sleep with every woman you meet, Mason.”

  “So you keep saying. Except what’s happening between us isn’t just coming from me, Tess. If this thing wasn’t mutual, it wouldn’t be happening and you know it.”

  She glared at him, not wanting to admit the truth of his statement. “You have no idea how to be with a woman if you aren’t seducing her.”

  “I’m not sure if you’re more determined to insult me or yourself.” He let out a frustrated breath. “Is it so impossible to believe that I might actually be attracted to you? That I might not be just a complete jerk, but might actually like you? Not just some generic female, but you?”

  “You hardly know me,” she pointed out, trying to sound rational, “and I’m not exactly a supermodel. What else am I supposed to think?”

  “I think you need to look in the mirror,” he said. “Really look, not just glance up as you shove on those huge glasses, or bury yourself in a jacket that’s at least two sizes too big. And maybe give me the benefit of the doubt for not being a shallow creep?” She started to protest, but he held up his hand and began to tick items off as he spoke. “Here’s what I know about you: you’re smart—currently pulling As in all your classes, including your second year of organic chemistry, despite the fact that you’re also juggling multiple jobs. You’re disciplined—putting yourself through school and saving every penny to do it. You’re driven—I’m not sure how many hours of sleep you get a night, but I know it’s not enough. You’ve done it all on your own, ever since your grandmother passed away, and you pinch your pennies so hard they bleed. You’re stubborn—you’ve had horrible relationships in the past and they’ve left you as scarred as I’ve ever seen, but you’re a fighter, and you refuse to let that past define you.”

  “How do you know all that?” she demanded. She knew she’d fallen into an easy rapport with Mason, but she thought she’d kept some of her life private. “I never said all those things.”

  “Tess,” he said patiently. “It’s not just what you say. It’s what you don’t say. You fall asleep every time you lie down on the couch. Your car is held together by a shoestring. If your computer were any slower, it would probably be an abacus. You’re firm but loving with Wick, and probably a hundred times more patient than I could ever be. You’ve got a temper but managed not to punch Elijah, which took a lot of willpower.”

  She allowed herself a tiny snort. “Can’t argue with that.”

  He walked over to her, taking her hand in his and examining it. He turned it over and held it up to her. “There are calluses on your palm. I don’t know which of your jobs you got them from, but I know that you didn’t get them from sitting around watching TV.”

  She thought of the hours she’d spent pruning, raking, and spreading gravel at the apartment complex. But this time, she wasn’t giving it up to him so easily. She pulled her hand away and turned to the window. “Fine, you’re a creepy mind reader and you know a few things about me. And I’m not saying I’m a total dog, okay?” She tried to collect her thoughts and put them back on their proper track, which did not include her wrapping herself around his body again. “How many women are you friends with that you’ve never dated?”

  He sighed. “They’ve established this in the movies,” he said. “Men and women can’t be friends.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Harry and Sally couldn’t be friends. That doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

  “How many men are you friends with?” he countered.

  She thought about her neighbor Moses and a handful of other students she’d corresponded with via email, though she’d never met in real life. “A few,” she said, trying to sound confident.

  He narrowed his gaze. “Real friends? Like, go-out-for-a-beer-after-work friends?”

  “If that’s your standard, I’m not sure I have any friends,” she said, then immediately regretted it. “But we aren’t talking about me. What about you?”

  “A few,” he said, sounding no more confident than she had.

  “Name one.”

  “Zoe,” he replied quickly.

  “A co-worker?” she guessed. “What is she, one of the people from your firm?”

  “One of our lawyers,” he admitted.

  She nodded. “You’re too smart to get mixed up with someone you’d have to see every day. I’m going to go away in a week or two, so I’m fair game. A co-worker is much harder to get rid of.”

  “Okay, I’m not sure what you’re trying to prove, but it’s true that I don’t have a lot of female friends. I assure you, though, Zoe is a real friend, not just my lawyer. She’s smart and tough and you’d love her. I’d be happy to introduce you, in case you don’t believe me.”

  She tapped her chin, spinning around slowly as an idea came to her. “You know what, that’s a gre
at idea. Let’s be friends.”

  “What?” He raised a suspicious brow. “You want me to introduce you to Zoe? I’d be happy to, but I’m not sure what that has to do with us.”

  “Not me and Zoe,” she said. “You and I are going to be friends.” The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The attraction between them apparently wasn’t going away. If anything, it was just getting hotter. But maybe if she got some distance between them, she could clear her head. Regroup. Gain enough stamina to make her way through the next couple of weeks without doing something she would regret. “I mean, we already are, sort of. But we’re going to become better friends. Go-out-for-a-beer friends. Friends that don’t sleep together.”

  “So the opposite of friends with benefits?”

  She spread her hands and nodded. “Yes!”

  “So how exactly is this going to work, then? If I’m not capable of having female friends?”

  “It’s going to be a challenge. A growth experience.” And by the time this friend thing was done, Tess would be safely back on the other side of the Bay, her heart intact. She wasn’t going to be one of Mason’s many conquests. She wasn’t going to fall into his bed like every other woman who passed through his life.

  “I see,” he said. “You don’t trust me, so you want to become friends with me.” For the first time, she caught the hint of irritation behind his easygoing smile. “That makes perfect sense.”

  She frowned. “I’m really not trying to insult you. And I do trust you. Mostly.” It was more herself she didn’t trust.

  “Right, of course,” he said with an exaggerated look of seriousness. “And I love this idea, I really do. Nothing I enjoy more than a good challenge.”

  She pushed her hair back in frustration. “Listen, all I’m saying is that we work together. And maybe there’s some chemistry between us, but it isn’t a good idea to act on it.”

  “Maybe there’s some chemistry?” He blew out a breath. “You’ve really got a way with words, don’t you.”

  “Okay,” she conceded. “A lot of chemistry.” She didn’t understand for a minute why it was there when he was so far out of her league, but she had to admit that it existed.